


Don't you need me?

by Dreaming_in_Circles



Series: Soulmates Have no Timing [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Background Relationships, Complicated Relationships, Drunken Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Getting Together, Heartbreak, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining, Relationship Negotiation, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Spanish Grand Prix 2016, Swearing, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 14:18:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7805047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreaming_in_Circles/pseuds/Dreaming_in_Circles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soulmates were rare, very rare, and at 31 years old, Lewis was pretty sure he was on his own for this lifetime. Nico had a life he'd worked hard for, and he was happy with that; he didn't want or need a soulmate. The universe disagreed. And maybe, a decade ago, that would have been fine. But in the middle of a race season, after all the bad blood between them, Nico wasn't sure he and Lewis even had a relationship to repair anymore. Was there room in their lives for one-another?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't you need me?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prompt_fills](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prompt_fills/gifts).



> Dear prompter (promptee?),  
> I hope when you said clichés, you were not thinking fluff. Because there be an abundance of angst here. Oh, we also have clichés; we have clichés up the wazoo, and I’m rather proud of that. I think I hit all three of your prompts in one, plus extra! I hope this fulfills your hopes and dreams.  
> I assure you that when I set out to write this, and 18000 word fic was not what I had planned. (I didn’t have anything planned, which is probably how I ended up here). Regardless, your plot bunnies mobbed me in a back ally, carried me off by force, and I haven’t stopped running since. I have so very much enjoyed writing this; please feel free to stop by on AO3 or tumblr anytime and mob me with more plot bunnies. Enjoy!

 

> _Don't you need me?_  
>  _I, I think I'm falling, I'm falling for you,_  
>  _Maybe you'll change your mind_  
>  _I think I'm falling, I think I'm falling_
> 
> The 1975 - Falling For You

 

Lewis woke up the morning of the Spanish GP feeling hungover. Which was ridiculous because he’d stayed hydrated during qualifying the day before, had gotten a good night’s sleep, and sure as hell had stayed away from alcohol. He liked a good drink, sure, but he wasn’t _stupid._

Lewis rolled out of bed, barely opening his eyes, and showered. He took his time, letting the warm water relax his muscles and the steam clear his head. He felt a little better by the time he got out – the worst of the headache was gone, at least – and slightly more prepared to face the world, and that team briefing Toto wanted them to do about the new engine. Lewis didn’t even try to resist the urge to groan, and made sure all the furniture in the suite knew how unhappy he was as he searched through the hotel room for more bottled water.

 The briefing was supposed to start about mid-morning or so with a team brunch Lewis had tried very hard to get out of. They’d done one of those brunch things before Sochi, too, and Lewis wasn’t entirely sure why Toto was feeling all touchy-feely these days. Lewis certainly wasn’t, but he’d been late to the last one, and Peter had made it very clear he shouldn’t be late to this one. Lewis wasn’t even sure what time it was, but he couldn’t have slept _that_ late. When he finally unplugged and picked up his phone to check his messages, the clock indifferently informed him he was indeed late for the team brunch. Again. _Shit._

He dressed quickly, throwing on the first things he could find. A pair of ripped jeans and a long-sleeved shirt weren’t exactly ideal for 22°C, but whatever. He was late, _again,_ and Peter would not be happy about it. And Lewis really did not need Peter mad at him right then, not with all the problems the engine had been having.

Lewis could barely stomach brunch, and mostly stuck with black tea – which did not go unnoticed by Peter, who kept eyeing him up as if wondering how much he had to drink the night before. Lewis wished he’d just ask, so they could clear the air, but that wasn’t really Peter’s style. So Peter spent the morning passively aggressively staring at and undoubtedly judging Lewis, and seriously, Lewis did not have the patience for that shit.

The briefing was fine, normal, nothing unexpected happening there. The team had mediocre hopes for the new engine, which Lewis already knew, and were going over facts and figures that Lewis didn’t need to hear for the first hour, but was forced to pay attention to because Toto was there. They transitioned into useful information towards the end of the briefing, and Lewis wondered why they didn’t lead with that – cramming it all in at the last minute couldn’t be good for his memory, after all.

Lewis left shortly after for the F1 pageantry, as Nico liked to call it, which had always seemed hypocritical to Lewis. Toto cornered him as he was leaving the garage and asked him to wait a minute, which was never a good sign. Nico walked past, nodding almost cordially at them both. Lewis didn’t miss the dark circles under his eyes, and wondered what _he’d_ been up to the night before that had caused him to lose sleep. Vivian wasn’t in Spain, after all.

“How are you feeling, Lewis?” Toto asked, yanking Lewis out of his daydreaming. Lewis frowned at Toto, because this was so out of character for him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Lewis muttered back, and turned to leave, but Toto grabbed his arm, which he never did. “What’s wrong?” he snapped. He just wanted to get on with the damn pomp and circumstance so they could run the race.

“Peter said you seemed irritable,” Toto answered, his eyes searching Lewis’ face. Lewis had to resist the urge to roll his eyes, because that would only reinforce the idea in Toto’s mind.

“I’m fine. Just eager to get the race started, you know? I’m in a good position; I’m ready to get back with the program,” Lewis insisted, and Toto nodded. He seemed understanding, but Lewis didn’t really care as long as Toto let him get on with it. “I’ve gotta get going,” Lewis prompted, and Toto nodded, letting go of his arm.

“Good luck out there. Don’t lose your cool,” Toto warned, and didn’t smile when Lewis snorted with amusement.

“Never,” Lewis promised, and beat a hasty retreat.

It wasn’t until he was changing in the motorhome parked behind the paddock that he noticed the spots of color spreading on his left arm. Stripes of black crisscrossed with flowing hazel green lines peppered the six inches of skin above and below the inside of his elbow, standing out harshly against his dark skin. Turquoise splotches marked a dissonant trail through the mottled color, just starting to etch out the yet-illegible name of his soulmate.

“Damn it!” Lewis yelled, slamming his hands against his locker and gripping the sides hard. Of all the things he needed in his life just then, finding out he had a fucking _soulmate_ was so far off the list, it might as well have been on Mars. Soulmates were very rare in the 21 st century, rarer still 30 years into life; Lewis had just started to he wasn’t one of the lucky few who had one.

“I mean, this is great. Really. But of all the _shitty_ timing!” Lewis yelled to the ceiling as he shoved away from the locker and started to pace the tiny motorhome. “Of all the moments You could have picked-“ he growled, flexing his right hand irritably. He believed that soulmates were divinely chosen; he _trusted_ God knew what He was doing, he _really_ did, but of all the shitty, _shitty_ timing-

Lewis stared at his arm and watched as, before his eyes, the colors continued to darken and expand, millimeter by painful millimeter. It was so _slow,_ no wonder he didn’t see it in his morning rush; it must have been so small then. It took some people _days_ before a name became fully legible, and even then it could be a first name, last name, nickname, middle name, _anything._ What if Lewis didn’t recognize it? What if the partner didn’t recognize him?

The only upside was it explained everything. His mood, the hangover. Everything. When a person presented a soulmate, the human body underwent a physical change. It was like puberty, all over again, only worse. Hormones were crazy, mood swings were violent, the body was more sensitive to dehydration, heat stroke, etc.; it was altogether unpleasant, and didn’t fully normalize until the soulmates finally met.

“Great,” Lewis muttered to himself. “Just peachy.”

“Lewis!” Peter yelled from outside the motorhome, pounding on the door. “Are you coming?!”

“Uh,” Lewis froze, forcing himself to focus and take stock. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m coming!” He finished changing into the fireproofs and raced out of the motorhome and back to the track, studiously ignoring Peter’s glares and the sudden – and no doubt imagined – burning on the inside of his arm.

 

 

Nico couldn’t sit still through the meeting with the stewards. All he could think about was getting out, which he was sure would sound terrible if he tried to tell anyone, but it was nonetheless true. Lewis hit him – he definitely didn’t hit Lewis – and they both were wiped out. Unfortunate? Yes. Intentional? Hardly. Even he could see that. It was just Lewis being his overaggressive self. It wouldn’t be the same if he wasn’t constantly pushing the envelope. It was done, already forgotten as far as Nico was concerned; he had bigger things on his mind. Like the soulmate mark growing on his chest.

He’d first noticed it that morning, when he was getting dressed for the team meeting. It had just been tiny spots then, the color of burnt peanuts, with thin black lines and pinpoints of blue-white. He’d thought they were freckles at first, and then that he’d caught some rare and deadly disease before it hit him like a Monaco track wall, the feeling of all-consuming fear close behind.

By the time he changed into his fireproofs, the “freckles” had grown to spots the size of golf balls, some of them connecting like rivers up and down the right side of his chest, covering his right pectoral and trailing to the bottom of his ribs. The white and blue pinpricks had grown into bursts not unlike stars, and the black lines had sprawled everywhere, but not yet formed a name. It was going to be huge, and obvious, and he couldn’t stop tugging at his collar in fear that it would go up his neck, and everyone in the meeting would notice.

There was a collective sigh of relief when the stewards dismissed them with the informal judgement that no action would be required, which was exactly what they deserved, Nico thought. Besides, Toto had already and would continue to give them an earful, and Riccardo’s disappointed comments about having to rebuild the entire car were more than adequate to make Nico feel sufficiently guilty about the wreak.

Everyone dispersed after the meeting, having somewhere to be, something to say, somewhere _not_ to be, Nico thought as he carefully avoided anything that even vaguely resembled press. He needed to get behind closed doors and figure this soulmate thing out, and quick, or else sleep might become a distant concept, if last night was anything to go by. Developing a soulmate had different effects on different people, and Nico had the feeling he was going to be one of those people who couldn’t sleep unless his soulmate was with him. Which, with his schedule, was going to be difficult.

“Nico, _halten,”_ someone said behind him, and even before he turned Nico knew it must be Niki. He was the only one that spoke German with Nico at the track.

 _“Was?”_ Nico asked as Niki drew even with him. “What’s wrong?”

“The crash was not your fault,” Niki said, blunt as ever. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“I don’t,” Nico assured him, and he appreciated Niki’s support, he really did, but it was not a good time-

“Then why did you fidget so much in the meeting?” Niki plowed on without delay. “You looked so nervous. You cannot look so concerned to the press; they will read too much into it.”

“I’m sorry,” Nico apologized, trying hard to finish the conversation. “I just have a lot on my mind. I won’t look so distracted when we talk to the press, I promise.”

“They will fix the car, Nico; don’t worry about that-“ Niki started to assure him, but Nico waved the assurances away.

“Of course. I know. It’s a, ah, personal matter.” Nico hoped very hard that he was not blushing.

Niki appraising Nico carefully. “I’m afraid I can’t help you fix your relationship with Lewis,” he said, not unkindly. It wasn’t the first time they’d discussed the subject.

Nico smiled bashfully; the conversation was not going the way it was supposed to. “I know. It’s not that. I really need to go, I’m sorry, Niki.” Nico started edging away from Niki as he apologized, grateful the older man let him. “I’ll talk to you later,” he promised, then turned and practically raced back to his trailer.

It was only when he was finally cocooned by the safety privacy afforded did Nico allow himself to undo the Velcro holding the collar of the suit together. There didn’t seem to be any immediate red on his neck, and Nico sighed in brief relief. It was something.

He stripped off the fireproofs and pants, and changed into jeans, but was hesitant to take off the shirt. He wasn’t sure he was ready to see if the thin black lines had formed a name yet or not. If he didn’t look, he could just pretend he already knew what the name was going to be. Vivian. Vivi, maybe; that was what Nico sometimes called her. Or Sibold; sometimes it was last names. But Nico already knew it wasn’t going to be her.

Experts in soulmates – if there was such a thing, Nico had his doubts – said the design of the soulmate mark was the physical representation of one soulmate’s mental image of the other. For some people it drew on physical features, others favorite colors, still others just passing associations. No one really knew where the colors and designs came from, but all soulmates said their marks reminded them of their partner. There was nothing in the dark red color and fine black calligraphy lines that reminded Nico of Vivian. And it scared him.

He turned away from the mirror, and stripped off the shirt, changing into a crew-cut t-shirt, jacket, and scarf. If he was being reasonable, it was a little too warm for the weather, but better safe than sorry. He cleared his things out of the trailer, shoved on a pair of sunglasses, and left the track as quickly and inconspicuously as he could, heading back to the hotel, where he could sleep away his sorrows until tomorrow. He knew not talking to the press now might cause a bit of a stir, but there was no way he was going to put up with that.

His phone beeped, and Nico glanced at it briefly as he waited at a red light. It was a text from Vivian:

 _Es tut mir Leid._ _Mach dir keine Vorwüfe. Erinnern wir dich lieben._

 _Remember we love you_. Nico felt like his heart would break. He loved his wife and daughter more than anything. No arbitrary soulmate mark could take that away from him.

 

 

Lewis left the meeting as quickly as he could, lost in a storm cloud of his own anger and frustration. His fault, what bullshit was that. No one was saying it, not with the stewards letting him off the hook like that, but he knew at least Niki was thinking it, opinionated old man that he was. They were wrong; he’d had every right to go to the inside; Nico fucking pushed him off the track. And then some _child_ won the race. Which he knew wasn’t really fair to Verstappen, but his foul mood wasn’t going to spare anyone.

Two reporters caught and tried to stop him, asking how the meeting went. Lewis made some non-committal comment about waiting for the steward’s decision to be published before he said anything and quickly excused himself in a reasonably civil manner. He hoped it was civil, anyway; the reporters looked somewhat put out, but didn’t they all when you declined an interview?

Lewis spent a long time just sitting in his motorhome staring at the fake tile flooring. He was slouched in his chair, hands clasped loosely and resting on his stomach, brow furrowed because he didn’t know what to fucking do. There would be interviews, and team meetings, and explanations due, and talks of rebuilding the cars in the next several days. There was no way they’d get to keep the scheduled two days off, not after what they’d done. Lewis sighed and rubbed his eyes; he was sorry the cars were totaled, even if it wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t an asshole; he know how much work went into those cars.

But he could deal with that. He could deal with anything that happened on the track. What he had no clue about was the soulmate mark. And if this bad mood really was because of the mark, he needed to find his soulmate and get these mood swings over, fast. He absolutely could not go into another race with this mindset. But he didn’t even know where to start with his soulmate. He may never even have met the person; how the hell was he supposed to find them?

Lewis stripped off the fireproofs, and the long-sleeve shirt underneath. The mark on his arm had grown a little since he last saw it, had become more defined. The turquoise lettering was still incomplete, though it was clear now that the letters would be big and blocky, with clear, 90° corners. The black lines were straight, vertical stripes, while the multicolored hazel lines meandered across the black like currents in a river. It was beautiful, though not at all to Lewis’ taste. The turquoise of the lettering was an off color, similar the blue on the cars. Lewis wasn’t a fan, but he knew Nico liked it. The hazel somehow managed to compliment it, despite being much greener in color, the turquoise popping brightly off the busy background.

Lewis wished the name would hurry up and write itself, so he could at least do something, _anything_ , other than sitting around waiting. But that wasn’t the way it worked. This was a divine thing; it was slow, steady, patient. Nothing like Lewis was naturally. It was a challenge.

Lewis paused as he was dressing, considering it from that perspective. It _was_ a challenge for him, in every sense of the word, and God knows he loved a challenge. Lewis’ lips twitched into an ironic smile; he could definitely look at it from that perspective, if that made it easier to deal with.

“Okay,” Lewis muttered, nodding to himself. “I can do that.”

With a new challenge and a positive direction in front of him, Lewis quickly grabbed all the stuff he needed from the motorhome and left, heading back for the hotel. His phone beeped with a text from Peter, telling him the stewards had made it official that it was a racing incident, and no punishment would be awarded. Lewis snorted at his word choice. Like crashing out “awarded” a driver anything but scrutiny and criticism.

He plowed his way graciously but quickly through the press, making up some bullshit about being pleased with ruling. If he were honest, he was satisfied. Still pissed at Nico for pushing him off the track, but better they settle their grievances on the track with fair play, rather than at the hands of the overbearing stewards.

He hitched a ride with a technician back to the hotel – the team encouraged him to not travel with his cars, and Lewis would find the look on Toto’s face when he’d asked forever hysterical. The ride was short, the technician only slightly bitter, but he seemed pleased when Lewis remembered his name. Lewis made it back to his room without incident.

As soon as the door closed, he rolled up his left sleeve, but the mark had made little progress. Lewis sincerely hoped his would not be one of those that took days to be fully realized. He liked a good challenge, but that would be very difficult.

He checked his messages again. Toto had sent an email to him, Nico, and the usual suspects about a meeting the next day to discuss the race. Lewis shook his head in amusement; he was sure that man never slept. But that was what you got when you were an executive director of a racing team; it certainly was something Lewis never wanted.

He considered going on Twitter, to see what his usual group was up to, but decided against it. The one time he tended to avoid social media was after a bad race; he didn’t need to know what was trending about him just then. Nor did he want to see what was trending about Verstappen.

Lewis turned on some music in the background, and starting digging to see who was going where that night. He felt like going out, but didn’t want to see another driver all night. By the time sunset rolled around, he’d taken a nap, and found a club that looked decent, but more importantly, no other driver would likely be at.

He showered and changed into a black t-shirt and skinny jeans, and found an appropriately irreverent hat. He considered adding a jacket, but it was still a warm, and in all likelihood he’d end up taking it off anyway. It’s not like anyone in the club would pay that much attention to the mark, and he liked to show off his tattoos. The club was within walking distance through some back alleys, so he didn’t bother calling a cab, or borrowing a Mercedes car. He didn’t want to have to worry about driving back, anyway.

Lewis was in a good mood when he entered the elevator, but one look out the front lobby doors showed there was still a lot of paparazzi out there. It took Lewis less than a second to decide to sneak out the back, and circumvent the circus altogether. The back end of the hotel was mostly various-sized rooms for private events to large seminars. He figured there wouldn’t be too many people back there at that time of night.

Getting back there was easy enough, but finding an exit that wouldn’t set off the fire alarm was something else entirely, and Lewis found himself wandering aimlessly, looking for a way out of the labyrinthine hallways. After a while, Lewis stopped paying attention to where he was going, and let himself get lost in his own thoughts, mostly daydreaming about the next two weeks. He didn’t get back to Monaco much during the season, and he missed it. The Monaco GP was always one of his favorites.

Lewis heard the sound of someone talking around the corner in front of him, and assumed it was one of the hotel staff. Lewis walked a little faster, figuring he might be able to give him direction on how to actually get out of the hotel. Lewis rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks when he saw, not a hotel staff member, but Sebastian Vettel. He was on the phone, and sounded like he’d gotten into an argument with whoever was on the other end. Sebastian’s back was to Lewis, and he hadn’t seen him yet, so Lewis turned to beat a hasty retreat around the corner, but Sebastian’s next sentence stopped him in his tracks.

“Mark, I don’t care-“ The person on the other end of the line – Mark, apparently, cut Sebastian off before he could finish. Lewis frowned at Sebastian’s back; he wasn’t talking to Mark Webber, was he?

“Mark Webber, you complete fucking asshole!” Sebastian hissed into the phone, and Lewis supposed that answered that question. But _why?_ Sebastian and Mark’s dislike of each other was infamous; it outdid even Lewis and Nico’s rivalry.

“I _know_ , Mark; I know,” Sebastian said into the phone, and he sounded genuinely sad about something. Heartbroken, almost. Lewis had never heard anything like it before. Sebastian turned, as if making to pace, and abruptly caught sight of Lewis. The two froze, like deer in headlights, both too embarrassed and shocked to do anything.

 _“Scheisse,”_ Sebastian muttered, then added, “Mar-I have to go. I’ll call you later.” He brought the phone down from his ear and hit the “end call” button with resolve. He stared down at his phone for a long moment, and Lewis felt guilty. He’d clearly witnessed something supposed to be private.

“Sorry, mate, I didn’t mean to-“ he started to apologize, but Sebastian waved it off immediately.

“No,” he shook his head and finally looked up at Lewis. “If I wanted privacy, I should have gone to my room. I just have to ask you…” Sebastian trailed off with a frown, eyes glued to Lewis.

“I won’t tell anyone, mate,” Lewis promised, sure that was what Sebastian was going to ask, but Sebastian continued to stare at him. It was starting to concern Lewis. “Sebastian…?”

“Lewis,” Sebastian paused like he was looking for words. “What happened to your arm?”

Lewis felt vaguely panicked as he followed Sebastian’s gaze down to the growing mark on his arm. He’d finally managed to put the soulmate business to the back of his mind, and had completely forgotten he’d left it uncovered. _Shit._

“Um…” Lewis had no idea where to start. He could lie, he could dismiss it as another tattoo, he could make it no big deal. He could tell the truth.

“You have a soulmate!” Sebastian sounded way too happy about that fact, and marched closer to Lewis to get a better look.

“I…yeah,” Lewis admitted with a resigned sigh. “I guess I do.”

“You don’t know their name yet,” Sebastian stated after taking a closer look.

“No, not yet. And it’s taking it’s time, too.” Lewis complained, and Sebastian laughed.

“Mine didn’t. Mine happened in about an hour.” Sebastian shook his head and laughed again at the memory. Lewis frowned at him.

“I didn’t know you had a soulmate?” That wasn’t the kind of thing most people hid. And Sebastian was so talkative, so excited to share good news, how the hell did Lewis not know?

Sebastian took a deep breath. “Yeah, well, we didn’t tell. Anyone.” He shrugged, trying to look casual about it, but he was trying a little too hard. Besides, hiding soulmates was practically unheard of.

“But you’re telling me,” Lewis asked more than stated. He and Sebastian were friends, yeah, but they weren’t _that_ good of friends.

Sebastian grinned. “I think you might have the same problem I did,” he explained, pointing at Lewis’ arm.

Lewis was lost. “Which is?”

Instead of answering, Sebastian pulled down the collar of his shirt to reveal a brightly-colored circle a little bigger than a hockey puck sitting below his left collar bone. It was a single swirl of red, yellow, and white lines. The name “Mark W” was scrawled over it in blue. It reminded Lewis almost immediately of the Red Bull color scheme. He frowned up at Sebastian, not sure he was understanding correctly.

“I found my soulmate the end of the 2013 season,” Sebastian explained, readjusting his collar. “They say the design of your mark is how you see your soulmate, and they’re not wrong. In 2013, the only other person I associated instantly with Red Bull was Mark.” Sebastian smiled. “His is in exactly the same place, exactly the same colors, only with my signature. I couldn’t believe it; I don’t think he could, either. Not at first.”

“That’s who you were on the phone with.” Lewis connected the dots. It made a lot more sense, now.

“Yeah.” Sebastian looked instantly melancholy, and his voice cracked with that heartbroken tone again. Lewis’ stomach twisted.

“Why do you think I have the same problem you did? I have no idea who my soulmate is.” Lewis changed the topic, and it seemed to work, at least a little, as Sebastian grinned at him again.

“Don’t you? I mean, who else actually _likes_ that color?” He grabbed Lewis’ arm and pointed at one of the spots of turquoise bringing form to letters. For a long moment Lewis had no idea what Sebastian was talking about, and then he realized.

“No,” he proclaimed instantly, waving his free hand in front of him. “No way.”

Sebastian laughed. “See, that’s what Mark said!”

“He doesn’t even _like_ me!” Lewis insisted. The mere concept was ridiculous. “I don’t even like _him!”_

“Are you sure about that last part?” Sebastian asked. He was grinning, but it didn’t bring the same crinkle to his eyes it normally did. “Be honest.”

“I-“ Lewis started, then sighed. “No.”

Sebastian nodded understandingly, his smile fading slightly. “That’s what I said.”

 

 

Nico had a quiet night in, keeping to himself and far out of the public eye. He ordered room service, cracked open the cheap thriller novel he’d picked up at the corner store, and later that evening called Vivian. They talked about Alaïa, about plans for Monaco, about his mother’s new sowing project, about her mother’s designs on babysitting Alaïa, about Vivian’s day. They didn’t talk about the race.

“I have to go, Nico,” Vivian inevitably said. “I have an early morning, and so do you, I’m sure.” Nico hummed non-committedly. There was a long moment of silence. “How are you feeling, love?” Vivian finally asked, and Nico could hear the frown in her voice, feel her concern for him like it was a tangible thing. “You haven’t said much all evening.”

Nico thought about telling her, he really did. He’d have to tell her eventually, even if he didn’t allow it to come between them. She was his wife, and not only did she have a right to know, it would be impossible to hide.

“Just tired. It’s been a long day, you know?” It wasn’t a lie, though the argument could be made it was a lie of omission, at least. She deserved to be told in person, Nico argued to himself, never mind that it allowed him to procrastinate a week longer.

“Okay…” Vivian’s voice trailed off. “Anything I can do to help?”

“No. It’s okay. We’ll work it out. Vivian, you know I love you,” Nico blurted out. He needed to say it, needed to know she knew it. “I love you more than anything.”

“I love you too, Nico,” Vivian repeated back. “I’ll see you in a week, okay love?”

“Okay,” Nico agreed, and hung up the phone. He stared at the dark TV in front of him and wondered what the hell he was going to do.

Nico slept fitfully that night. He had difficulty falling asleep, and when he finally did, couldn’t stay asleep. In the end, he gave up in the predawn hours of the morning and settled out on the balcony with a rich cup of coffee to watch the sunrise. It was powerful and striking, a vibrant red that lit the entire racetrack in either blinding red or deep shadow.

Nico wandered back inside when the coffee pot ran cold, and placed it back into the machine to warm and refill it. He turned around to survey the room absently, mentally estimating how long it might take him to pack, when he needed to start if he wanted to make his flight back to Brackley.

Some room décor expert had hung a large mirror on the wall across from the kitchen, and Nico found himself staring into it, wondering first _why_ anyone had thought that necessary, then commenting on how tired and ragged he looked, before his eyes finally caught sight of thin black lines tracing above the collar of his t-shirt, and winding part of the way around his neck, from right to left.

Nico’s blood ran cold as he stared at the black lines on his neck. It was as if they had a death grip on his airway and were trying to strangle him to death; he couldn’t seem to get any air into his lungs. With shaking hands he traced the line that ran straight across his trachea above his Adam’s apple and curled to a delicate stop. Twisting in front of the mirror, he could barely see another line unfurling over his shoulder and curling to a stop just above the base of his neck, over his spine.

Nico made a physical effort to swallow down the panic rising in his throat again, and forced himself to pull the t-shirt over his head and off completely. He stared unbelieving into the mirror as the name of his soulmate appeared fully etched into his skin in beautiful, fine black calligraphy over a base of red the color of Lewis’ helmet stripes, accented with tiny flares of the white and ice-blue of Lewis’ studs.

Nico let the shirt slip through his fingers and pool on the floor at his feet. He pressed his hand against his skin where the mark lay; it didn’t feel any different than it had two days ago. How could something as ridiculous and insignificant as the pigmentation of his skin have the power to ruin him overnight?

Nico exhaled sharply, but even to his own ears it sounded more like a sob. He closed his eyes and forced himself to get control of his emotions. He’d deal with it. There were ways to deal with it. It was unheard of for known soulmates to not get married, a physical impossibility for soulmates to ignore each other, but there were justifying circumstances between Nico and Lewis. Lewis didn’t even like him at that point, probably didn’t want anything to do with his own mark or the person attached to the name, and that was fine with Nico. In fact that would be perfect. They’d go on being competitors like always. He could claim the lines on his neck were part of a tattoo if the press asked. Vivian knew Nico loved _her,_ she _knew-_

Nico tuned in to the sound of someone knocking on his door so quietly it was almost inaudible. He took one step forward, then stooped to grab his shirt, and pulled it on as he walked to the door. He undid the safety lock and pulled the door open only partially, stopping in shock.

Lewis was standing on his doorstep, and Nico felt entirely unprepared for whatever conversation they were about to have. Lewis looked even worse than Nico had in the mirror. Complete with dark bruises under bloodshot eyes, drooping eyelids, hunched shoulders, and shaky hands, he looked tired and probably hungover.

“Can I come in?” he finally asked, blinking and squinting at Nico, who realized he was probably backlit very dramatically by the sunrise.

“Yeah,” Nico agreed, leaving the door open as he retreated back into the room and pulled the curtains over the balcony doors. The suite fell into instant darkness, only a little light filtering in around the edges.

“Thanks,” Lewis muttered as the door clicked closed behind him. Nico had the urge to get a glass of water and a granola bar, because he knew Lewis never ate breakfast when he was hungover, and it was said to help. He started for the kitchen before stopping in his tracks, remembering his plan to push Lewis as far away as possible; Lewis dropped into the first chair he reached and stared up at Nico with miserable eyes. Nico took a deep breath.

“You don’t usually weather a hangover this badly,” he said, and it was as mean a start as any.

“Yeah, well, apparently it’s my curse for having a soulmate,” Lewis muttered, not looking away, and Nico blinked. He felt insulted, which was fine; maybe Lewis would do all the pushing himself. He decided to say the first comeback that popped into his head.

“That seems mild compared to ruining three peoples’ lives.” Lewis snorted and finally looked away. Nico counted that as a victory. He crossed his arms over his chest, and waited. When more than a minute had passed, and Lewis had yet to say anything, he pushed a little more. “What do you even want, Lewis?”

Lewis’ shoulders sagged slightly, and he rubbed his face with his hands. Nico was ready to count that as another victory before Lewis asked, “You got any aspirin?”

Nico’s frown deepened, and he considered yelling, getting angry with Lewis for, what? Asking for a painkiller? That’s what a jerk would do. _Lewis_ was the one who barged in just after sunrise, after all.

Nico walked to the kitchen in silence. He filled a glass with cold tap water, and retrieved two aspirin from the pill box in his bag. He walked back into the main room and handed them both to Lewis, who hadn’t moved. Their fingers brushed as Nico carefully set the pills into Lewis’ palm. Nico pretended not to notice, and stood over Lewis as he obediently downed the pills, and then three-quarters of the glass of water.

Lewis looked Nico up and down, his eyes finally settling on Nico’s neck, and he was pretty sure he knew what Lewis was looking at. It suddenly made Nico wonder where Lewis’ own soulmate mark was. Was it even on his upper body, given how many tattoos he had?

Lewis suddenly looked away, and stripped off his long-sleeve shirt. Nico was about to snap at him to put it back on when, amidst all the black ink, Nico’s eye was caught by a violent patch of turquoise spelling out his first name in the blocky letters from his helmet design. It was set over a stripped and swirling background of black and an olive brown that Nico guessed was designed to represent his hazel eyes. He stared at the mark, openmouthed; he couldn’t help it. It was smaller than Nico’s own, stretching from halfway down Lewis’ bicep, across his inner elbow, and halfway down to his inner wrist. It was choppy-edged, each strand uneven; nothing like the smooth, faded edges of Nico’s.

“I’ve been wondering if yours says “Ham,” Lewis joked, with a sideways grin, and Nico was so engrossed in the mark that it took him a beat to realize what Lewis was talking about. He swallowed before answering.

“Not exactly.” Nico finally managed to drag his gaze away from Lewis’ mark and look him in the eye again. Lewis was frowning.

“Can I see?” he whispered, the question one of simple curiosity, but Lewis’ tone was charged. He reached out and held onto the hem of Nico’s t-shirt but didn’t pull. Nico’s breath caught in his throat, and he took two steps back. Lewis let his hands fall in his lap, but otherwise didn’t move. Nico forced himself to take a deep breath. Plan A was shot; but there was always Plan B.

“Lewis, I don’t want this,” Nico said, and he was proud of how steady his voice was. He could see the muscles in Lewis’ jaw clench, and Nico knew it was about to get ugly.

“I know this isn’t exactly ideal right now-“ Lewis started quietly, but Nico interrupted him immediately.

“Lewis. I have a wife. I have a daughter. If we make Mercedes choose between the two of us, they’re going to choose you. This may not be _ideal_ for you, but it is the _end_ of my life,” Nico explained in no uncertain terms. “I’m not going to let any of that happen.”

Lewis’ jaw was set. “We’re not going to ignore this, Nico.”

Nico scoffed, his voice growing louder in his indignation. “Did you hear anything I said? Lewis? That is _exactly_ what I am going to do!”

“Nico, you don’t understand why we can’t-“ Lewis tried again, his voice still quiet, but Nico did not appreciate being told what to do.

“No, _you_ don’t understand, Lewis! I am not going to give up the life I have! I worked hard for this!” Nico stopped when Lewis cringed and put a hand to his head.

“I’m not-“ Lewis started, but was interrupted by the sound of Nico’s phone ringing in the bedroom. Nico immediately left to go get it. He knew it would piss Lewis off he didn’t stay to hear the end of the sentence. Maybe Lewis would get the hint and just _leave_ , though that wasn’t really his style.

The text was from Vivian. It was a picture of Alaïa, her nose and face covered in powdered sugar. She was grinning ear to ear. The attached text read:

_Pancakes for breakfast means powdered sugar everywhere!_

_You spoil her. It’s too early to addict her to sugar!_ Nico texted back, smiling slightly at the scene. He could so easily imagine it. Vivian would put Alaïa in her high chair and let her play with whatever ingredients she deemed safe, because if Mama was working in the kitchen, Alaïa had to be involved, too, or she’d complain. Loudly.

 _It’s never too early! And you don’t?_ Vivian texted back, and Nico’s smile grew.

_We can’t both spoil her_

_We can until she’s three ;)_

Nico wasn’t sure that was a proven child-rearing fact, but he wasn’t going to contradict it. He was typing that out to Vivian when she texted him again.

_We need to go or we’ll be late. Talk to you tonight <3_

_Have a good day,_ Nico texted back. He dropped his phone on the bed, but took a moment to compose himself before facing Lewis again. This was why he was having this fight; _this_ was what he wanted to hold on to. Not some broken relationship he and Lewis might or might not share.

Nico walked out of the bedroom, but the chair where Lewis had been sitting was empty. Nico frowned, and checked the rest of the hotel room, but he was alone. Lewis had left. Nico had pushed him away. It was exactly what he’d been trying to do. It still felt like a loss.

 

 

Lewis had followed Nico to the bedroom, had hovered in the doorway watching as Nico texted someone else, smiled that way at _someone else_ , and he had no doubt who Nico had been talking to. It made his stomach turn, and Lewis didn’t want to consider why. Jealousy didn’t suit him. Lewis left almost immediately. It was pretty clear Nico didn’t want anything to do with him anyway.

Lewis didn’t know where to go, so he went back to his room and unpacked and repacked his bags in a flurry of angry energy. How could Nico _ignore_ what they had just like that? Didn’t Nico feel _anything_ for him, even remotely? Even if he didn’t, they were stuck with each other, and they didn’t have a choice about it. Maybe the transition was easier for him. Maybe there were no physical symptoms. It would be just his luck to get away without any side effects while Lewis was stuck with a constant hangover. Typical.

Lewis’ phone beeped, and he ignored it in favor of refolding all his shirts, even the dirty ones. It beeped again, and he took the battery out without looking at who the messages were from. Five minutes later someone knocked on his door, and Lewis looked up past the ceiling in a silent plea of _why?_ He answered the door a moment later anyway.

Sebastian was standing in front of him, holding two paper cups that smelled like coffee. He held one out to Lewis.

“I don’t drink coffee,” Lewis said, and he knew Sebastian was only trying to be nice, but his head hurt, and he still felt nauseated, and Nico was rejecting him which hurt more than he cared to admit. So Sebastian was going to get the brunt of it.

“I know,” Sebastian insisted, and pushed the cup closer to Lewis, who grabbed it out of instinct. “You drink black tea. Nico told me once. He was laughing at you.” Sebastian walked past Lewis and into the room. Lewis rolled his eyes and shut the door.

“What do you want, Sebastian?”

Sebastian shrugged and took a sip of his own coffee. “I wanted to make sure your hangover didn’t get the better of you. Take it from me, drinking when you haven’t sorted out your soulmate situation is never a good idea.”

“I’m fine,” Lewis lied instantly.

“You look terrible, even considering how late you were at the bar,” Sebastian pointed out.

“Looks aren’t everything. And how do you know how late it was; you disappeared on me,” Lewis muttered back, taking a sip of his tea. Sebastian laughed instead of answering, loud and happy, and Lewis grimaced. It hurt his head, but he found himself smiling behind the paper cup, so he decided not to kick Sebastian out yet, and walked back into the room to collapse onto one of the chairs. Sebastian took the one across from him.

“Has it come in yet?” he asked, gesturing to Lewis’ arm.

“Yeah,” Lewis muttered miserably.

“And?” Sebastian prompted eagerly.

Lewis shrugged. “It’s definitely Nico.” Sebastian grinned briefly like a child at Christmas, then leaned forward conspiratorially.

“And did you talk to him yet?”

“Yes.”

“And?!”

“He doesn’t want anything to do with me,” Lewis muttered, looking down at the paper cup in his hands. He felt like he might cry, and desperately hoped he didn’t in front of Sebastian. Sebastian was being unusually quiet, and when Lewis looked back up at him he looked almost as stricken as Lewis felt.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian mumbled, looking down at his own coffee cup.

“You and Mark,” Lewis started, and Sebastian stiffened. “Did you both just _agree_ to ignore it? Was it mutual?”

Sebastian licked his lips nervously. “Not…exactly. I-“ He stopped, and it looked like he might cry, too. He took a shaky breath and looked Lewis in the eye. “Don’t let him push you away, Lewis. He will regret it for the rest of his life. You both will.”

“Sebastian-“ Lewis started, but Sebastian stood up and walked quickly to the door, letting himself out. Lewis watched him leave in shocked silence. He’d never seen Sebastian look so disheartened.

Lewis stayed sitting awhile, deep in thought. He couldn’t see a way out of the maze he was lost in. Nico had a point, as much as Lewis hated to admit it. He hated the idea that this change would be more than just difficult for Nico, but painful, and possibly detrimental. Soulmates were rare, and the media just romanticized them all as bland, perfect relationships. Lewis was sure soulmates had to deal with their own share of relationship problems, like any other couple, but he had to believe God wouldn’t give someone a soulmate unless it made their life better. Nico certainly didn’t think so.

They’d talked about the “what if” of having a soulmate once, years ago when they were still kids. Nico hadn’t liked the idea back then, either. He’d asked all the practical questions about careers and travel and family. Lewis had thought it particularly grim when he’d brought up the fact that racing wasn’t exactly a safe sport, but even then he hadn’t been able to deny Nico was wrong. For a driver, all relationships were messy. Lewis knew it; he really did. But finding out he’d had a soulmate had seemed like a second chance with someone, even if the timing could have been better. And a second chance with _Nico_ … That had been too much to ask for util now.

Lewis was resolved. In that instant, he decided he was going to take Sebastian’s advice and not let Nico get rid of him. Somehow, Lewis was going to make sure that Nico had some part in his life, and that Lewis was a positive part of his. Whatever that meant, whatever part that was, Lewis was going to play it. If only because he needed the damn hangover to end someday.

Lewis checked the clock, decided he had enough time for breakfast, and hauled himself out of the chair. He put the battery back in his phone and headed to the breakfast buffet in the lobby, sitting down with Jenson, one of the few people actually awake after the partying from the night before.

 

 

Nico avoided Lewis for the rest of the week. It wasn’t exactly difficult to do; Mercedes kept the two of them separate and busy. There was the car to reconstruct and refit, press and sponsor events to attend, appearances to make, apologies due, the list seemed endless, and Nico spent the week utterly exhausted because he couldn’t sleep. With all of that, avoiding Lewis was easy.

By the time the weekend rolled around, there was nothing in the world Nico wanted more than to go home, and the flight from Berlin to Monaco seemed to take an eternity, even though he’d made it a hundred times before, but seeing Vivian and Alaïa waiting for him at the airport made life feel so much brighter.

Alaïa was very happy to go through Nico’s bag with him when they got back to the apartment, examining the shirts and socks he pulled out of his bag and discarding them around the room when something more interesting appeared. She lit up happily when she found one of the Mercedes hats, flopping it onto her head and waddling from the room babbling animatedly.

Nico stopped collecting the thrown shirts and watched her walk herself down the hallway, one hand against the wall for balance. He smiled softly before turning to Vivian.

“Should we go after her?”

Vivian shook her head, a matching smile on her face. “No; I know where she’s going. She sees me check my appearance in the long mirror in the hall, and likes to copy me whenever she finds something new to try on. If she trips, we’ll hear her. There’s nothing she could hurt herself on.” Nico nodded in agreement; he knew the house was child proof, but he still worried about her.

 Vivian put down the shirt she’d been folding, and walked over to where Nico was crouched on the floor, still looking down the hall. She slide a hand into his hair and bumped her leg against his shoulder. He looked up at her affectionately and slid his hand around her ankle.

“I’ve missed you both so much,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her thigh.

“Nico,” Vivian started, sounding concerned, and Nico looked up at her. “Is everything alright? You…haven’t been yourself this week.” Nico’s stomach knotted and he looked away, leaning against her leg for support. Vivian kneeled down and put a hand on Nico’s cheek to force him to face her. “You know you can tell me anything. I _want_ you to tell me everything. It won’t change what we have between us.” She kept her eyes on Nico’s, but put her free hand on the left side of Nico’s neck, and in that moment he knew she knew. Maybe she didn’t know exactly, or didn’t know for sure, but she _knew._

Nico’s exhale sounded almost like a sob as he leaned forward to press his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry,” he whispered fervently into the space between them, a desperate plea for her forgiveness. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shhhh,” Vivian hushed him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a proper hug. “This isn’t something you did; this is God’s will.”

“This isn’t fair,” Nico muttered back, and Vivian chuckled lowly.

“Life isn’t fair, Nico. Never was, never will be. You know that,” Vivian admonished lightly. She’d said it often, the past two years, and Nico did know it. Keenly. But that didn’t make the bitter pill any easier to swallow.

Nico leaned back and held Vivian’s face with his hands, his eyes searching hers. “I love _you._ ”

“Yes,” Vivian agreed immediately. “

But you’re destined to love someone else more.”

“I don’t love him,” Nico responded firmly with a shake of his head. He didn’t, wasn’t sure he _could_ anymore. It almost felt like a mistake that they ended up with each other.

“Who is it?” Vivian asked, almost tentatively. Nico didn’t really want to tell her, but he knew she’d find out sooner or later.

“Lewis.”

Vivian nodded thoughtfully, her face carefully schooled, and reached up to take Nico’s hands. “We’re your two oldest friends. I suppose it makes sense.”

“It should have been you,” Nico said emphatically. The corner of Vivian’s mouth turned up in a crooked smile.

“If it was meant to be me, it would be my name on your skin. You can’t argue with that,” she added immediately, pointing an accusatory finger as Nico opened his mouth to do just that. He didn’t know what to say, and just stared at her in miserable silence. She seemed sympathetic, but otherwise kept her face carefully schooled. “You and Lewis have a lot of shared history. It’s not always so tense; remember when he poured a bucket of molasses on your head?”

Nico snorted – of course he did – and reflexively ran a hand through his hair. “That got everywhere,” he complained. “But I got him back.”

“You two started a prank war that almost took over the paddock!” Vivian laughed gleefully, rocking back on her heels. “It was impressive!”

“Yes it was,” Nico agreed quietly. It was a memory from a long time ago, when the three of them were just teenagers spending too much time at race tracks.

“That,” Vivian said, getting Nico’s attention and pointing at him emphatically. “You two tore each other apart the last two years, but _that right there_ is what you have to salvage.”

Nico shrugged. “It’s always been like that with Lewis; you know that. I-“ Nico stopped, and sucked in a breath. “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, eyes tracking back to the hallway Alaïa had disappeared down. He would do anything to keep them together.

“Papa! Papa!” Alaïa suddenly yelled from the front foyer. “Papa!”

Both Nico and Vivian were on their feet in a heartbeat. Nico nearly sprinted down the hallway and around the corner to the foyer; Vivian took it at a more civilized pace, but only to let her husband come to their daughter’s rescue. God knew she saw precious little of her father, and it sounded like it was about to be reduced again.

“What is it Alaïa?” Nico asked the instant he rounded the corner. Alaïa was lurching toward him as fast as she could, but it appeared she was in no immediate danger. Alaïa reached both arms up, the universal symbol of “pick me up now,” and Nico obliged, stooping down to scoop her up. “What is it, mouse?” he asked again in a lighter tone, poking her nose playfully. She waved her hand in front of her face belatedly, but seemed perfectly content in his arms.

“Did we get a little lonely all by ourselves?” Vivian laughed as she rounded the corner, walking over to rub Alaïa’s back. “Such a little drama queen.” Nico smiled and bounced Alaïa gently in his arms. All three of them jumped when someone knocked on the door.

Vivian frowned at Nico as she moved to answer it. Occasionally, someone would buzz to be let into the building – they had a forgetful neighbor who was always loosing keys – but someone knocking on their door was rare. Vivian unlocked and opened the door in one fluid motion, not batting an eyelid when she saw their visitor.

“Lewis,” she greeted him with a smile, glancing over her shoulder at Nico, who’d stiffened at the sight of him. “I didn’t expect you until Monday.”

“Yeah. Last minute change of plans,” Lewis shrugged dismissively, then cleared his throat. Nico had never seen him that uncomfortable. “I don’t want to interrupt, but Toto asked me to swing by and drop off a new instruction manual. Some new mode setting stuff.” Lewis pulled a white packet out of his bag and held it out to Nico. It was not lost on him Lewis was wearing long sleeves again.

Nico shifted his grip on Alaïa and walked over to take it. Vivian took Alaïa from him and balanced her on a thrown hip. Nico took the packet and flipped the cover sheet back to see what it was. The title and print date declared it to be exactly what Lewis had said. Nico looked back up at him and nodded his thanks.

“Do you remember Lewis, Alaïa?” Vivian cooed, looking between Lewis and Alaïa in an attempt to get the baby to follow her line of sight. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she added to Lewis.

“Yeah,” Lewis agreed, taking a step toward Alaïa, then glancing at Nico. Nico forced himself to relax and leaned against the door jam. Lewis took another half-step. “Not since right before Monza, last season.”

“Oh, it has been a while,” Vivian reiterated. Alaïa finally looked at Lewis, who had started to genuinely grin as he watched her. “Want to hold her?” Vivian asked abruptly, and Lewis looked taken aback.

“Um. I mean, if that’s alright,” he hesitated, glancing at Nico again. For his part, Nico wasn’t sure what he thought of that idea.

“Alaïa doesn’t always like being held by unfamiliar people, but you’re welcome to try,” Nico consented, deciding to leave it up to his daughter. Lewis grinned again, and dropped his bag on the ground, hands outstretched in a rough imitation of Vivian’s stance.

“It drives his mother crazy,” Vivian commented as she passed Alaïa to Lewis carefully. Lewis laughed at her comment as he gingerly balanced Alaïa on his hip.

“I can imagine,” Lewis replied, looking up briefly at Vivian. The sudden flash of movement must have caught Alaïa’s eye, and she suddenly reached up to grab Lewis’ diamond stud.

“Hey-“ Lewis started, trying to pull his head away, but Nico could tell it was too late; Alaïa had a death grip on the jewelry, and was pulling on it as hard as she could, as evidenced by Lewis’ increasing cries of pain. “Ow – no, please – ah – Alaïa, stoo-ah, ow, ow, ow!” Lewis was using both hands to keep her steady, but clearly wanted to use one to get himself out of the situation.

“If you drop my daughter-“ Nico warned, laughing, but finally took pity on Lewis and moved to take Alaïa from him. Lewis quickly untangled the earing from Alaïa’s grip and took a step back.

“You’d have my permission to put me into a wall on Sunday,” Lewis agreed. “Thanks for saving my ear.” Nico nodded at Lewis with a smile.

“Sorry; I didn’t think to warn you,” Vivian apologized, but Lewis waved it aside.

“It’s what I get for interrupting,” Lewis joked. “Probably her way of telling me to get lost.”

“On the contrary,” Vivian insisted. “She likes you. She hasn’t started screaming yet.”

Everyone laughed, and Alaïa gurgled happily, clapping her hands together, picking up on the mood of the room.

“If you haven’t made any new plans, you’re welcome to join us for dinner tonight,” Vivian offered out of the blue, and both Lewis and Nico looked at her sharply. “I made red-cabbage pork earlier this morning; there’s more than enough for three.” Nico had no clue what had just happened, but the idea of Lewis joining them for dinner sounded bizarrely attractive.

“No, I don’t want to impose,” Lewis begged off quickly, stooping to pick up his bag and making to leave.

“It would not be an, ah, imposition,” Nico promised, searching briefly for the word. “It’s been a while since you were over; it would be nice if you could come.”

Lewis turned to stare at Nico like he’d grown a third head, and in all honesty, Nico could understand why completely. Lewis would probably be within his right to slap Nico for the run-around he’d been given.

“That sounds great,” Lewis said, staring at Nico as if daring him to take back the offer. Nico felt slightly light-headed, but forced himself to smile.

“Good.”

 

 

Lewis wasn’t sure how it had happened, but dinner with Nico and his family was a great place to start working his way back into Nico’s life. Hell, it was almost _too_ perfect, but there wasn’t a ghost of a chance that Lewis would complain.  After the week he and Nico had had, he would have been happy if all he’d done was hand the manual off peacefully. Instead, he’d been invited to dinner, which hadn’t happened for _years_ (though partly that was Lewis’ own fault for never being home), much less under strained circumstances.

Lewis stuck with long sleeves, even though it had looked like Vivian had the apartment open to the breezy Mediterranean air. She always liked being on the coast, being able to smell the sea. Lewis could remember the trips they used to take if they had weekends off karting. Nico would take his dad’s car and drive the three of them from Germany south to the Mediterranean coast. They would usually spend the nights in Monaco, if they were close enough, or just sleep in the car if they weren’t. They spent the long weekends driving up and down the coast, visiting as many beaches and sights as they could, just the three of them, plus Vivian’s Cards Against Humanity deck. They hadn’t even had a cell phone.

Lewis arrived for dinner just as the Rosburgs were finishing preparing it, which meant he was put in charge of Alaïa, whose idea of cooking mostly consisted of getting underfoot. Lewis walked her over to the dining room table and pretended he knew how to set it properly, well aware he was probably doing the whole thing wrong. Every once in a while, Lewis would set out silverware and Alaïa would shake her head from where she was standing on a chair, and pronounce _“Nein!”_ until he changed it to her satisfaction. She did it until all of the silverware layouts were the same.

“Does she know how to set the table?” Lewis asked over the half wall as they moved on to roll napkins together.

“Yeah, she does,” Nico laughed, looking over his shoulder at them from where he was cutting potatoes. “She has a great memory.”

“Wow,” Lewis commented, genuinely in awe, and watched Alaïa roll the napkins. She was not as strict about that, and was content rolling and unrolling them playfully, sliding the rings on and off.

Eventually, she slid one of the napkin rings on like a bracelet and babbled happily, crouching down to slide off the chair and wandered around the table and out of the dining room. Lewis carefully followed her a few steps behind; the table was almost done, anyway. He trailed her into the foyer, where she stopped in front of the floor-length mirror there to stare at her reflection and giggle, waving the arm with the napkin ring around wildly. Lewis laughed.

“Aren’t you a pretty little lady,” he asked rhetorically, and she babbled as if in agreement. Nico came out of the kitchen door behind him, and stood next to Lewis. They watched in silence as she danced and jumped in front of the mirror, watching in fascination as her reflection did the same thing.

“She loves that mirror,” Nico murmured absently. “It’s the only one in the apartment where she can see herself in it, and something about her reflection fascinates her.”

Lewis looked over at Nico, who was focused on Alaïa with a tender look on his face. They were standing so close to each other their shoulders were almost brushing. Lewis drank in the sight of him, from his fluffy hair, to the curve of his smile, to the dark circles under his eyes. Lewis looked lower and found the two black strands that ran up from Nico’s chest and across his neck. It was all he’d seen of Nico’s soulmate mark, and he wanted to desperately to see the rest of it. He had to resist the urge to reach out and trace his fingers along the lines.

Nico suddenly looked over at him, and their eyes locked. The smile slowly faded from Nico’s face, and he seemed to be searching for something in Lewis’ eyes. He looked away suddenly and cleared his throat. Lewis wondered what Nico had seen.

“Come on, Alaïa. _Abendessen ist fertig,”_ Nico told Alaïa, who stopped dancing and held her arms up to Nico. He chuckled, stooped to pick her up, and turned to walk back to the dining room, glancing at Lewis as he walked by. Lewis wasn’t sure what to make of that, and followed him back to the dining room in silence.

Dinner was delicious, and Vivan somehow managed to keep both of them talking throughout the whole thing. She was an impressive woman, Lewis knew, and it showed. Alaïa did not like the red cabbage at all, but the potatoes were apparently good after Nico mashed them for her. She started to get unhappy at the end of the meal, though, as they were clearing the table and packing up leftovers.

“Think she’s getting tired?” Nico asked Vivian as she started to cry when Vivian picked her up.

“And hungry,” Vivian agreed. “I’m going to feed her and put her down.”

“Getting away from people now is probably a good idea; otherwise she’ll never sleep,” Nico observed, and Vivian nodded with a smile. “I’ll do dishes; you go feed her.”

 _“Bitte,”_ Vivian said, and pressed a kiss to Nico’s cheek. “Try to keep it down, boys.” She grinned mischievously as she walked out of the room. Nico and Lewis finished clearing the table in silence.

“Can I help?” Lewis asked as Nico settled in front of the sink to start rinsing dishes and filling the dishwasher. Nico looked at Lewis for a moment, as if considering something, then gestured at the slow cooker the pork had been in.

“Can you wash that?”

“Sure.” Lewis grabbed the inside of the cooker and moved to the other side of the sink, bumping elbows with Nico as they shared the water. They worked in silence a little longer, but it wasn’t tense, like their silences usually were the past months. This was relaxed and comfortable and calm, and Lewis reveled in the feeling.

“I told Vivian,” Nico said as Lewis scrubbed at a particularly tough patch of grease. “She, um…” Nico trailed off. “She’s taking it really well, considering.”

“Considering?” Lewis asked, rinsing out the slow cooker.

Nico snorted, and set a plate into the dishwasher a little harder than necessary. “Considering I just told my wife I’m supposed to love someone else.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t love her, too,” Lewis assured him, and Nico scoffed.

“You two are teaming up against me, then?”

“What?”

“That’s what she told me.” Nico finished loading the dishwasher and slammed it shut.

“Well, she’s a smart lady, Nico,” Lewis said softly.

“I know; that’s why I married her!” Nico snapped, and they fell into silence again. Nico braced both hands on the counter and leaned into it like he needed its support. Lewis leaned his hip against the counter on the other side of the sink and watched him quietly, waiting until he looked more relaxed.

“We should spend some time together before the race to help with the physiological effects,” Lewis finally said, because that was a legitimate concern.

“I guess we should also tell Toto,” Nico mumbled, and Lewis shrugged. It was pretty standard policy for coworkers who were soulmates to make that fact known, at least to their boss. Something about maintaining professionalism, or something like that; Lewis wasn’t sure.

“He gets in on Monday, right?” Lewis asked. He was pretty sure that was what Peter had said.

“Last I heard,” Nico agreed. He pushed himself off the counter and stood up straight. He looked at Lewis, and seemed a little nervous, a little uncertain. “Your head bother you a lot this week?”

Lewis hadn’t expected the question, and looked at Nico in surprise. “Yeah, a bit. Nothing some painkillers couldn’t cure, though.” Nico nodded. “Anything happen to you?” Lewis asked. Nico seemed tired, but it had been a really long week outside of the soulmate mess, too.

“No,” Nico said immediately, then grimaced and shook his head slightly. “I can’t sleep,” he added in a quiet voice. Lewis frowned at the idea that Nico’s first reaction was to hide it from him.

“Wha-“ Lewis started, and he just wanted to help, but Nico cut him off.

“I don’t know what you can do to help, Lewis. Okay? I don’t know,” Nico snapped, and marched into the dining room with a rag to wipe down the table. Lewis followed, a scowl in his face. He got that this was difficult, but that didn’t excuse Nico’s whiny behavior.

“Nico, when you’re mad, you can’t just keep ignoring me, or pushing me away, or running me off the track-“ Lewis knew it was bad as soon as he said it, but he was not going to back down. Nico, of course, reacted appropriately.

 _“What?!_ ” Nico nearly roared, rounding on Lewis. He made a visible effort to restrain himself as he glanced down the hallway toward Alaïa’s room, and turned back to Lewis with venom in his eyes to continue in an infuriated whisper. _“That’s_ what you want to bring up right now?! You and I are going to be stuck with each other for the rest of our lives, and you want to pick a fight about _that?”_

“ _You’re_ the one who wants to pick fights!” Lewis barked back, mindful of his own volume. He stepped into Nico’s space, but Nico didn’t step back. “ _You’re_ the one who’s keeping me away with a ten foot pole!”

“Lewis, I _told_ you! I have a wife, I have a _daughter!_ You can’t just expect me to drop all of that and…” Nico gestured angrily.

“And _what_ , Nico?” Lewis growled. He had no idea where Nico was going, but he couldn’t _wait_ to see.

“And jump into bed with you!” Nico hissed furiously, and Lewis gasped in openmouthed disbelief.

“Is _that_ what you think this is about?” _You son of a bitch…_

“Well, I don’t know; is it? You haven’t exactly told me what you want from me.” Nico spit out, glowering at Lewis, who looked no less hostile.

“I want to be a part of your life, Nico!” Lewis exclaimed, and grimaced with a glance down the hallway as Nico shushed him angrily. Lewis stormed on at a quieter volume nonetheless. “You’re my bloody soulmate; I want to actually have some kind of relationship with you outside of competing on the track.”

“I’m _trying,_ Lewis!” Nico insisted, and there was genuine earnestness in his voice.

Lewis scoffed. “Yeah, sure, except when you’re not.”

Nico gasped in insult. “What do you call tonight, then?”

“Tonight was _great!_ Tonight was perfect, you know, until it wasn’t.” Lewis gestured at the two of them.

“Well, whose fault is that,” Nico muttered. Lewis gaped at him.

“Yours,” he snapped with conviction.

 _“Mine?”_ Nico repeated with disbelief.

“What the hell do you call that in the kitchen?!”

Nico barked a laugh in disbelief and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Oh, I don’t know, just genuinely being at a loss for what the hell I’m going to do as my life falls apart around me.” He glared at Lewis furiously.

“See, _there’s_ your problem,” Lewis said emphatically. “Those are your two problems, in a nutshell.”

“Oh yeah?” Nico asked mockingly.

“Yeah!”

“Well do enlighten me!”

“Every time I try to get close to you, or do something for you, or help you, you push me away. And you do it because you’re so convinced that this is the end of the world! Stop being so dramatic!”

“Lewis, it _is_ the end of my world. I could potentially lose everything I care about and have worked for, and you need to admit that! And, if you think I’m pushing you away, maybe I’m doing it for a reason! Consider slowing the fuck down a little bit! I’m not _ready_ to be your…whatever the hell you want me to be!”

“See, that’s the attitude I was talking about! Stop being so damn pessimistic, Nico!” Lewis yelled, throwing caution into the wind. If they were going to argue, they might as well argue _properly_.

Nico looked completely affronted, pure incredulity written all over his face. “Did you _listen_ to _anything_ I just said?!”

“Yes, Nico, I heard every word of it,” Lewis promised as if it should have been obvious.

“No, you didn’t! It went in one ear, through your empty head, and out the other!” Nico yelled back.

“Look, mate, if you’re just going to insult me, I’m going to leave,” Lewis said, taking a step back. He was trying to be diplomatic about it.

“I think you should go,” Nico agreed bitterly, and Lewis felt his body tense in insult. He sneered.

“Fine. Goodnight,’ he snapped, turned on his heel, and marched through the kitchen to the door. He made sure not to slam it on his way out.

 

 

Nico didn’t say anything about the fight, and was grateful when Vivian didn’t bring it up, either. He went to bed almost as soon as he had calmed down from the argument, feeling exhausted to his bones. He slept for a few fitful hours, but by midnight was staring at the ceiling again. Vivian was curled up against his side, a warm weight he usually found comforting but that night he only felt guilty and sick about what he must be doing to her. Her quick and determined declaration from that morning had surely been intended to reassure him, but it reminded Nico of how jumpy she got when she was nervous.

Vivian had errands to run the next day, and Nico was perfectly content to stay home and watch Alaïa all day. She seemed perfectly content with that as well, thrilled to have her Papa’s attention all to herself for an entire day. It worked out well for Nico, too, as he took a short nap with her in the afternoon. Vivian arrived home in the middle of it and said it was a lovely picture, though she refused to show it to Nico. He didn’t hear from Lewis once all day.

Nico was up at one the next morning, as had become his pattern, and was trying to pass the time with the oldest and most boring book he could find on their shelves when he heard the sound of a door slamming in the apartment above them. Lewis’. Nico glanced up at the ceiling but otherwise ignored it; Lewis had always kept odd hours – he was a partier, after all.

A minute later there was the sound of something heavy falling on the floor, and glass shattering. Nico looked up sharply at the ceiling again. Part of him wanted to make sure Lewis was alright, part of him insisted Lewis could take care of himself.

Caution won out over bitterness and Nico set the book on the coffee table, getting up to get actual clothes from his room, rather than just his boxers and t-shirt. Nico tried to be as quiet as he could, but Vivian had always been a light sleeper, and woke up at the sound of the drawer closing.

“Nico?” she asked, her voice tired and confused. Nico walked over to her side of the bed and crouched down.

“I think Lewis is drunk upstairs and tripped on something. I’m just going to make sure he’s okay. Go back to sleep.” Nico pressed a kiss to her forehead. She watched him for another moment, then nodded and rolled over. Nico pulled on his pants, grabbed his keys, and made the quick trip upstairs.

Lewis didn’t answer when Nico knocked, but the door was unlocked so Nico let himself in. Lewis’ apartment had the same floorplan as his, but it never ceased to amaze Nico at how different it still looked when Lewis was the one who decorated.

It had sounded like the noise had come from the main room, and Nico went there first. Sure enough, Lewis was kneeling on the floor, staring at a broken glass in something between confusion and sadness. It looked like he might have tripped over a low table, though Nico couldn’t be sure. In any case, that wasn’t what mattered.

“Lewis,” Nico said softly, and Lewis started, turning around to face him in surprise.

“What,” Lewis started, then stopped, and Nico decided he was very, very drunk.

“Come on,” Nico said with a sigh, walking towards Lewis and pulling him up. “You have to go to sleep.”

“Nico,” Lewis muttered, but Nico ignored him and started walking him to the bedroom. Lewis leaned on him heavily, and Nico was fairly sure he would fall over if he didn’t.

“Nico,” Lewis tried again when Nico sat him down on the bed and stooped to pull off his shoes. “You should stay,” Lewis finally managed to slur out. Nico had to stop himself from looking up at Lewis in shock, but that was how their relationships went. Yesterday, enemies; today, dead to each other; tomorrow, best friends.

Nico stood up and pushed Lewis down onto the bed, yanking some of the haphazard covers on top of him. He was prepared to completely ignore what Lewis had said when he grabbed Nico’s arm in a startlingly strong grip.

“Please,” he begged, his voice a hoarse whisper, his words slurred. “I just wanna know you don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Nico whispered back softly, crouching down and pressing his hand to the side of Lewis’ face. “I don’t hate you.” Lewis visibly relaxed and settled back into the covers, letting Nico’s arm slide from his grip. Nico stroked the side of his face once more, feeling the scratchy beard and soft skin. “I could never truly hate you,” Nico murmured, even though Lewis couldn’t hear, then stood up and left the room.

He cleaned the broken water glass as quickly as he could, and got another one that he left on Lewis’ bedside table. He choose not to stay, instead going back downstairs, climbing into bed, and sleeping soundly for the first time since the Spanish Grand Prix.

Nico took pancakes up to Lewis the next morning. He waited until ten, but it still looked like Lewis had just woken up moments ago; he hadn’t even made it to his breakfast tea yet. Nico handed him the plate, told him to go sit down, and went to the kitchen to retrieve a fork, knife, syrup, and a cup of English breakfast tea. Nico poured himself a glass of orange juice and joined Lewis at the dining room table. Lewis ate in silence, still asleep and too hungover to hold much of a conversation. Nico sat across the table and simply sipped his orange juice in amiable silence.

Lewis looked much improved by the time he had half the pancakes and most of a cup of tea in him. Nico got up to refresh the cup, and got more orange juice for himself. Lewis was watching him when he came back and sat down.

“Did I break a glass last night?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused. Nico smiled in amusement.

“Yeah. I cleaned it up.”

Lewis grunted. “Thanks.”

“You really used to manage being drunk better.”

Lewis sighed. “Don’t remind me.”

“You look like you’re feeling better now, though,” Nico added, to soften the blow.

“You’re here,” Lewis said, like it explained everything. Nico didn’t argue; Lewis wasn’t exactly wrong. Even five minutes in the same room was often enough to ease new soulmates’ transition-related woes. It took much more time than that to make the readjustment permanent, however.

“I’m glad to hear you don’t hate me,” Lewis said after a few more bites. Nico looked at him in surprise.

“You remember that, but not the fact that you broke a glass.”

Lewis shrugged. “Priorities.” Nico rolled his eyes, but with a smile. He fiddled absently with his orange juice glass, wondering what to say next.

“I just don’t want to lose you,” Lewis said quietly, staring into the plate of pancakes. Nico looked abruptly up at him with wide eyes.

“Lewis…” he started, but Lewis looked up from the plate and met Nico’s eyes intensely.

“Did you know Sebastian and Mark are soulmates?” Nico’s mouth dropped open in shock, but Lewis wasn’t done. “They decided to ignore it, like you wanted to do.”

“That’s…understandable,” Nico said, at a loss for words. _Sebastian and Mark?_

“Sebastian said he would regret it for the rest of his life,” Lewis continued, and Nico felt his blood run cold for no reason. “Not in so many words, but it was pretty clear. He looked so heartbroken when we were talking about it.” Lewis swallowed. “I couldn’t stand that being us.”

“I couldn’t either,” Nico said, and the words were out of his mouth before he knew he was saying them, but he didn’t regret them. Lewis, however, was looking at him with a slight frown, and Nico wasn’t sure why. “What?”

“That’s a bit of a change from before,” Lewis observed wearily.

Nico shrugged. “What you just told me explains why you’ve said some of what you have. And when you say it like that…” Nico trailed off for a moment. “I don’t want that. I would, I think, mourn losing you like that.”

“I’d mourn you too,” Lewis said, and Nico smiled sadly at him. “I don’t want to take away from the family you already have with Vivian and Alaïa, Nico. I just want to become a part of it, too.” Nico looked down at the glass in his hands, rolling to back and forth in his fingers. He was glad to hear that, and some of the fear he had felt dissipated, but none of the uncertainty.

“I don’t know what that would look like,” Nico said with a deep frown. “You never hear about soulmates where one was married to someone else before, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Lewis agreed. He took a deep breath. “I will take whatever role you want me to be in, Nico. I just want to be there.”

“I understand,” Nico acknowledged. “But I need to figure out what that is first, yeah? We need to figure it out together, I guess, with Vivian.”

Lewis nodded and looked back down at the plate of pancakes. Nico could tell he wanted something more firm than an abstract promise to “figure it out,” but Nico couldn’t give him any more than that. Lewis finished the pancakes and Nico retreated back downstairs with the empty plate, feeling unaccountably sad.

 

 

Eventually, after much tea, Lewis realized they had one day before Toto flew into Monaco. And while it would have been nice to have some semblance of what their relationship was going to be when they told Toto, Lewis was, at that moment, more worried about what they were going to say when Toto asked if they were okay to drive. Because Lewis was not completely sure he could bluff his way through Mercedes, much less win the race.

With that in mind, Lewis forced himself to go downstairs and ask to spend time in the same room as Nico, who thankfully agreed. Lewis spent the time on his computer with his music, headphones separating him from the rest of the world, while Nico read through the new manual. Three times.

The four of them went out for lunch together at Vivian’s request. She’d found a hole-in-the-wall that seemed paparazzi-free, and the meal was blessedly uneventful and relaxing. Lewis sat next to Nico, the two of them across from Vivian and Alaïa, who had a great deal of fun trying and failing to pick the slippery pasta off her plate with her bare hands. By the end of the meal, the uncomfortably formal gap between Nico and Lewis had disappeared, and more often than not Nico’s shoulder was resting on Lewis’. It was a warm and heady feeling.

They boxed the leftovers and went back to Nico and Vivian’s apartment. Lewis was prepared to go back upstairs to his own, but Nico insisted he might as well stay, which, on his end anyway, was a probably a practical decision. Lewis couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot, but also couldn’t find it in himself to care too much.

Vivian put Alaïa down for a nap when they got back, and dug out her old Cards Against Humanity game. Lewis didn’t even know she still had the deck, and it looked just as worn and frayed by their games as he remembered. It was exactly like old times. Nico was still just as bad at it; Vivian just as good. They kept their volume down as best they could, and by the time Alaïa woke up and started screaming for someone to rescue her, Vivian was winning by a good ten cards.

Nico got Alaïa out of her crib while Vivian and Lewis cleaned up the game, and they traded in the deck for a more baby-appropriate game involving stuffed animals. Lewis wasn’t sure what was going on, but he sat where Alaïa insisted he sat, held what she handed him, and watched in a confused wonderment as she moved her stuffed animals and dolls around and babbled as if they were talking to each other.

“She’s an incredible kid,” Lewis finally told Nico, who had also been recruited to play. Nico smiled fondly at his daughter.

“Yeah, she is.” The love was obvious in his voice, fondness clear in his eyes. Lewis could see how happy Nico was in this life, and he felt briefly guilty for demanding Nico change it for him. But neither of them really had a choice in the matter; they were both just trying to make the best of a challenging situation. Lewis could wait for Nico to adapt. That would only be fair.

They spent the rest of the day together, and Vivian seemed more than happy to be able to cook dinner in peace while Nico amused Alaïa. Lewis bowed out after the dishes were done – he felt awkward staying any longer. Nico saw him to the door.

“Are we still going to tell Toto tomorrow?” he asked as Lewis hovered in the doorway. Lewis heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t want to tell Toto until we can tell him what this is. You’re the one that wants to tell him immediately,” Lewis said bluntly. They hadn’t talked at all about what that conversation should look like, and Lewis didn’t think they were prepared for it. He wasn’t convinced Toto even had a right to know before they announced it to everyone else.

“A lot of companies don’t allow soulmates to work together. And we’ve kept it a secret for a week, already,” Nico insisted, but Lewis didn’t see his point.

“So? We can keep it a secret a little longer.” Nico was shaking his head, but Lewis was determined to plow on. “Besides, Nico, we’re technically still competitors. Being soulmates isn’t an advantage to us in that respect.”

“There are a lot of people who would disagree, I think,” Nico said lowly, and Lewis rolled his eyes.

“Let them. It doesn’t matter.”

“It always matters, Lewis,” Nico sighed. “Please, can we tell Toto tomorrow? It would be better if we get it out in the open now than make it look like we are trying to keep a secret.”

Lewis shrugged. “That’s fine, Nico.”

Nico nodded to himself, eyes unfocused for a moment, before looking back up. “Goodnight, Lewis.”

“Goodnight,” Lewis repeated softly and made his way upstairs.

Lewis’ soulmate-induced hangover Monday morning was better than it had been all week, but still not gone completely. He wondered how Nico had slept as he grabbed a yogurt container and left for the gym. Toto and the team weren’t getting in until later, and they weren’t due to be anywhere until one o’clock. He had time. He wanted to do something physical to get his mind off their problems. He needed to spend an hour or two not worrying about it.

Lewis didn’t see Nico again until the team meeting at one, and they didn’t have a chance to talk before it started and Lewis became absorbed in his work. The meeting went well, but ran very long, and by the time they got out, Lewis just wanted to eat dinner in peace. He forced himself to find Nico after the meeting anyway. He was wrapped up in a file they’d been given during the meeting, and Lewis jarred his elbow gently to get his attention.

Nico looked up and Lewis would swear up and down that he saw the briefest of smiles on Nico’s face before he schooled it into a more serious expression. Lewis would swear by it to the day he died. He wanted to mention it to Nico, smile back, do something cliché like brush a finger across his cheek.

“Want to talk to Toto?” he asked quietly instead. He could wait for Nico.

“Yeah,” Nico sighed deeply and gathered his papers. He and Lewis walked out of the conference room and waited together in the hall until Toto was done talking to Paddy. Toto looked over at them, and Lewis could see in his expression that he was wondering what shit they’d gotten up to over the weekend. Lewis couldn’t blame him; both his drivers ambushing him from a meeting the weekend after they took each other out on the track was not a set up for positive things.

“Can we talk to you?” Nico asked, gesturing back at the now-empty conference room with his head.

“Of course.” Toto nodded immediately and walked back toward them.

Lewis retreated back into the room, Toto right behind him. Nico was last in and closed the door behind him. Toto stood waiting expectantly, looking from Nico to Lewis.

“What is it?” he asked, frowning deeply in the way only he could. Lewis had always thought the looks he favored Nico and Lewis to would rival those of an angry parent. Lewis had the sudden urge to move next to Nico under such scrutiny, and he resolutely ignored it.

Nico looked at Lewis, and he looked like he was at a loss for what to say. As simple as the words “we’re soulmates” might have been in the abstract, Lewis could understand how admitting them to a third party would suddenly get daunting. But this was Nico’s idea, and Lewis had wanted no part. Nico was on his own.

Nico swallowed in what Lewis recognized as a nervous habit and turned back to Toto. “Lewis and I found out last week that we are soulmates.” It was the simplest sentence in the world, but it struck Lewis to his core, and he realized that for as much as they said it to other people, they had never said those words to each other. Toto looked as shocked as Lewis felt, certainly the most shocked Lewis had ever seen him.

“Soulmates,” he repeated.

“Yes,” Lewis confirmed, and he didn’t miss the look of surprise Nico shot him for speaking up. Lewis wasn’t sure why he was so surprised; this was important.

Toto was still looking between Nico and Lewis uncertainly. “Should I be congratulating you or offering my condolences on being stuck with each other for eternity?”

“Both, probably,” Nico said, and Lewis gave him a hard look. He only shrugged in response.

“Well, congratulations.” He shook first Nico’s, then Lewis’ hand. “You two deserve each other,” he added with a wry smile, and Nico grinned warily in agreement. Toto sounded genuinely happy for them, but Lewis couldn’t help thinking it seemed tinged with an undercurrent of concern. Silence drifted between them for a moment, and then Toto’s expression became serious again. “This does mean that there are some things we have to discuss,” he said slowly, and the panicked look on Nico’s face was enough to finally prompt Lewis to move and bump shoulders with him.

Lewis nodded. “Like what?”

“There will be paperwork,” Toto started in an even voice. “Soulmates are not explicitly denied from working together, but there are signatures Legal needs. The Board must be informed, at the very least, though as long as we do not have a repeat from last week and you two remain competitive, I do not see that becoming a problem we cannot handle.” Lewis did not miss Toto including himself in the phrasing, and bumped Nico’s shoulder again to make sure he noticed. “I do not know if soulmates have ever raced together before, but we need to check with Legal to make sure there is no paperwork for the FIA, either.” Toto grimaced. “You know how they are about rules and regulations.”

“Yeah,” Nico agreed in a small voice, and even Toto could tell he was worried.

“I do not expect this to be a problem from a business standpoint,” he explained calmly and gently, and Lewis felt the weight of the world fall off his shoulders. Nico looked equally relieved, and Lewis bumped his shoulder again as if to say “I told you so.”

“Though,” Toto continued, sounding less positive than before, “I can almost guarantee you will have to deal with a lot from the FIA and the press. You have to be prepared for that.”

“We know,” Lewis said confidently. They didn’t – not in so many words, but it only made sense. They were celebrities, and the news loved to exaggerate their competition to a ridiculous degree; it could only be expected and now that Toto had reminded them, he knew what to expect.

Toto nodded. “I will send someone from legal to talk to you both later this week. In the meantime, are you both comfortable driving this weekend?”

“Yes,” Lewis said confidently, and Nico murmured an agreement.

“No side effects?” Toto asked with a raised eyebrow.

“There were, but they’re already clearing up,” Lewis said evenly, and Nico nodded again.

Toto nodded his understanding. “Are you going public with this?”

“No,” Nico said instantly.

“Not yet,” Lewis added, because, realistically, they couldn’t keep it a secret for forever.

“Warn me before you do, please?” Toto asked, diplomatically ignoring their disagreement. “So we can help prepare for the media storm.” It seemed reasonable to Lewis, and he nodded. Nico nodded a moment later.

“Good,” Toto said, his accent thick on the word. “Congratulations again. It is a blessing to know there is someone out there who will love you unconditionally.” Toto smiled at them, both Lewis and Nico too shocked to say anything in return. The sentence seemed so loaded with something Lewis couldn’t identify. Toto said a quick, polite goodbye and left the room.

“What was that all about, do you think?” Lewis asked Nico as soon as he was gone. Nico didn’t say anything, so Lewis kept talking. “I mean, that’s good news, definitely, but it’s not like Toto to wax poetic like that.”

Nico was quiet for a long time and Lewis watched him carefully. He was frowning after Toto, deep in thought, and Lewis would have given a lot to know what he was thinking.

“Come over for dinner tonight,” Nico said, and it was not a question. Lewis was shocked, and for a moment couldn’t say anything in return.

“Come on,” Nico insisted, and he grabbed Lewis’ hand and marched them out of the room. Lewis felt electric where Nico was holding on to him. He only held on long enough to make sure Lewis was following before letting it go, but Lewis would take whatever Nico would give him.

 

 

 _“Warum haben Sie laden ihn zum Abendessen?”_ Vivian asked. She and Nico were in the kitchen finishing the dishes after dinner.

 _“Was?”_ Nico asked. He had been out of focus all night, and he knew it, but he couldn’t get Toto’s last words out of his head. The idea that he already – maybe had always-

“Why did you invite Lewis to dinner?” Vivian repeated. Lewis had already left for the evening, wanting to turn in early, but not before managing to successfully encourage Alaïa to calm down. She’d been bouncing off the walls all day, either squealing happily or screaming in misery, but she’d been at least a little calmer with Lewis. Either that, or she’d finally exhausted herself.

“I didn’t think you’d mind,” Nico said evasively as he handed another clean dish to Vivian to dry, since they’d filled the dishwasher. He made a point of not looking at her, even though he was pretty sure she didn’t mind. He really didn’t want to have this conversation with her. He hadn’t figured out how to talk to her about it, yet. He wasn’t even sure what his answer would be if he had.

“I don’t,” she confirmed. “But I want to know why you invited him over.”

Nico handed her another dish and frowned at her. “I don’t understand,” he stalled.

“I invited him to dinner on Friday. He came over by himself on Sunday.” Vivian leaned back against the counter so she could see Nico’s face as he worked. “You haven’t invited him here before now. So what changed?”

Nico stared at the plate in his hands and shrugged. “Toto said something that, um, made it seem important, I guess.”

“Made what seem important?” Vivian pressed, and Nico sighed irately.

“I don’t know, Vivian. This… He just… It seemed important, okay? Can we talk about something else?” Nico handed over the last plate perhaps more forcefully than he needed to and grabbed the towel to dry his hands off.

“Nico, why won’t you talk about this with me?” Vivian asked, her voice upset. “I know I’m not your soulmate, but I am your wife, for now, and I would like to be included in-“

“Vivian!” Nico interrupted her sharply, his voice anguished. He stuttered for a moment before finally forcing words out. “Stop. Please,” he begged weakly. The mere _idea_ that she thought he was excluding her from anything made his throat close up in grief and guilt. He knew it showed on his face, contorted as it undoubtedly was, and Vivian reached out and placed a hand reassuringly on his arm, but didn’t say anything. Nico took a deep breath and forced himself to keep talking.

“I _want_ you to be a part of this…transition. And I want you to be a part of whatever my life looks like after this,” he promised.

“Then tell me where you’re at,” Vivian argued, her grip on his arm growing stronger. “You do things, but don’t talk to me, and I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

“I don’t want to upset you!” Nico said, grabbing Vivian’s hand on his arm and holding it tightly. “I know this is difficult for you and I don’t want to make it worse by always bringing it up.”

“Pretending that it’s not happening isn’t helping any of us,” Vivian said bluntly, and Nico bristled slightly under the criticism.

“I’m _trying-_ “

“You don’t have to do this on your own!” Vivian held Nico’s face gently, and he could feel her warmth through her fingers. He forced himself to take a deep breath. “That’s what I’m here for; through good times and bad.” She grinned wryly, and Nico reluctantly smiled with her. He wrapped his hands around her wrists.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said, echoing Friday’s brief conversation. The smile slid off his face, and he frowned sadly at her. She had grown to be so important to him over the past decade, had supported him through so much. They’d been together so long, he could barely imagine life without her. And yet, he felt guilty that the thought of life with Lewis made him smile.

“You have to choose, Nico, and it’s tough,” Vivian responded, but Nico already knew that. She slid her hands down and interlaced them behind his neck, stepping closer to him. “But you can’t have it both ways; one of us is going to be your lover, and one of us is going to be your best friend. And I think you know which way it has to be.” Vivian’s expression was open and earnest, but there was a tightness in her voice Nico recognized from every choice she’d made she wasn’t happy with, and it made his heart ache because he knew that would be his fault. He squeezed her arms tighter.

“I really do love you,” he promised, but it seemed like empty words to even him. Hell, he was probably just making things worse.

“Nico, I love you, too. And I will be honest: I am sad that I am losing you to Lewis; I don’t want to share you. But I also refuse to stand in the way of something I know will make you happy. Because you _will_ be happy,” Vivian insisted ardently. “When you two aren’t arguing over racing, you’re so comfortable and content with him. He will understand you in a way I never could.”

Nico shook his head, steadfastly ignoring the real issue. “You and Alaïa are some of my happiest memories.”

“But Lewis shares _the_ happiest. As he should, as your soulmate.” Vivian’s fingers traced the black line on the back of his neck, and Nico swallowed uncomfortably. “And I can learn to live with that.” Nico almost believed her. He was not completely sure she wasn’t lying to his face, but he choose to believe the lie, if that’s what it ended up being. For the sake of his own sanity. He hugged Vivian, hard, and she gripped him back like they were each other’s lifeline. And, perhaps, that’s what they were. That’s what best friends did, after all. It was a thought that would take Nico a long time to get used to, but he hoped he could get used to it.

They spent the rest of the evening together, and sometimes it felt like nothing had changed, but sometimes Nico felt keenly that everything had. It lingered at the back of his mind, the knowledge that they’d basically broken up, after nearly a decade together. He was quiet; they both were, and Nico would have given a lot more than a penny for Vivian’s thoughts, but he tried to be patient. She’d tell him when she was ready. He went to bed before her, but was awake when she climbed in and wrapped her arms around him. Maybe he _could_ get used to it.

Nico went upstairs early the next morning and asked Lewis if he wanted to go on a run. He knew Lewis was not a big fan of running, especially when it wasn’t on a treadmill, but Nico hoped he would agree anyway. Lewis looked tired and hungover again, but agreed, and ten minutes later they were out the door. Nico took him through his favorite Monaco route, following the boarder as best as the streets allowed. They ran it twice in silence, a good ten miles with only the muted sounds of the yet-waking city and their breathing. It was a comfortable silence, though, and Nico found he couldn’t bring himself to break it, even though he probably needed to tell Lewis what had happened the night before. But as they jogged down the pier, the crowded water on one side, the crazy city on the other, everything still quiet and sleepy in that subdued hour when the partiers had gone to sleep but the rest of the world hadn’t fully woken yet, Nico couldn’t bring himself to break the hush.

They stopped at the end of the pier, both out of breath and sweaty. Nico felt good; the run was more of a warm-up than anything, but any run was enough to clear his head and get his blood flowing. It was exactly what he needed. Lewis looked much better than he had when they’d started, though Nico couldn’t be sure if that was because of the run, or because of him. They stretched, and started the short walk back to the apartment.

“Bad night?” Nico finally asked. Lewis sighed.

“I wouldn’t call it restful. Never is, without you,” he muttered, and Nico wasn’t sure what to make of the last part. Lewis looked sideways at Nico. “Thanks for the run. I feel better now.” Nico hummed in response; he still had no words. They walked another block in silence, the city seeming to grow louder with each step as it woke.

“Vivian and I came to a decision. Or, she pushed me to make a decision, I guess. However you would like me to say it.” Lewis raised his eyebrows in curiosity, and it was Nico’s turn to sigh. “We’re done.”

Lewis frowned. “As in…what? You broke up?”

“We, yeah, we broke up,” Nico confirmed, and Lewis gapped at him. “A divorce would be the next logical step. We haven’t talked about it yet; I’m sure it’s coming, though-“

“I’m sorry,” Lewis said suddenly, stopping Nico in his tracks.

“What?” Lewis had kept walking, and was forced to turn around and face Nico straight on.

“I’m sorry. I know how much you loved her,” Lewis said, and he looked genuinely apologetic. Nico couldn’t take it.

“No.”

“No?” Lewis repeated.

“You don’t get to be sorry for me,” Nico shook his head, face contorting in anger. “I did this for _you_ , you don’t get to be _sorry_ about it!”

“I’m sorry that you’re _hurting_ ,” Lewis insisted, stepping closer to Nico. “I know you did this for me, I-“

“I want to know what you think this relationship is going to be,” Nico interrupted bluntly. He broke up with Vivian to be with Lewis, who said he’s _sorry?_ Nico didn’t even know how to begin handling that.

Lewis visibly hesitated on the question, and Nico wondered what the hell the answer would be that it would give Lewis pause. “You want the truth?” he finally asked.

“ _Yes_ ,” Nico said, with feeling and without hesitation. He needed to know if he’d made the right choice. He needed it like he needed air. Lewis watched him for a long moment before finally nodding to himself and taking a deep breath.

“I love you, Nico. Completely, hopelessly, head over heels.” He grinned crookedly at his wording before being serious. “I have for a while. I won’t insult you by lying, but I also wouldn’t insult Vivian by acting on it, which was why I never told you.”

Nico watched Lewis with as straight a face as he could muster. Lewis, who straight-up _loved_ him, _had_ loved him for years. Could he say it back; was he brave enough to do that? Did he love Lewis?

Nico stared at Lewis and drank in the sight of him. His lips were pressed tight together in nervousness, but when it was real, he had a relaxed smile like no other. He had a work ethic that would put a God to shame, but also a party mentality that would wear out even the most experienced. His was a sense of style Nico would never understand but appreciated nonetheless, not that he would admit it. Endless smooth skin, eyes the color of fall trees, midnight hair, a gap between his two front teeth, _verdammt-_

“I love you too,” Nico finally whispered, and the expression on Lewis’ face went from shocked to exhilarated to disbelieving in a second. “Really,” Nico insisted, because he knew Lewis didn’t believe him yet; not really. “I didn’t realize it until now. Vivian’s been insisting on it, and I didn’t believe her, but,” Nico paused and stared at Lewis earnestly. “I do. I love you.”

“Yeah?” Lewis asked breathlessly, like he couldn’t quite believe it. Nico couldn’t believe he’d said it, either.

“Yeah.”

 

 

Lewis couldn’t believe his ears. And then he couldn’t believe Nico’s words, because no way in hell Nico went from zero to one hundred that fast. Nico was a good liar, when he really wanted to be, but after a lifetime Lewis knew all his tells, and he was showing none of them. He looked so genuinely honest, and Lewis wanted so desperately to believe him.

“Look,” Nico said, looking suddenly inspired. He pulled his shirt off completely, _in the middle of the fucking street,_ but Lewis immediately stopped worrying about that as he took in Nico’s soulmate mark for the first time.

It was _huge,_ was Lewis’ first impression. A patch of red skin that had to be almost exactly the color of Lewis’ helmet covered the right side of Nico’s chest from his collar bone to the bottom of his ribs. It faded off into Nico’s normal skin pigment smoothly, unlike Lewis’ uneven edges. His name was written in the same font his tattoos were in, the rich calligraphy spelling his first name out from Nico’s ribs to his collar bone, decorative lines stretching down to his hip bone, up his neck, and over his shoulder. While-blue flecks adorned some of the lines, and it took Lewis a minute to realize they looked like his studs.

Lewis slowly walked toward Nico and into his space, but he didn’t flinch away this time. Lewis held out one hand, close but not touching the mark.

“May I?” he breathed, barely daring to disturb the silence.

“Yeah,” Nico whispered back, eyes locked on Lewis’ even as Lewis couldn’t rip his eyes away from the mark. He reached out gently and brushed his fingers over it, fingers tracing the lines of his name even as Nico’s hand moved up to rest over the inside of Lewis’ elbow, brushing over his own name on Lewis’ skin.

“You’re my soulmate,” Lewis stated, and Nico laughed, but it felt important to say out loud.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Nico rebutted.

“I’ve never actually told you that before,” Lewis mused as he moved his hand up to Nico’s neck, his thumb brushing Nico’s jawline.

Nico hummed and closed his eyes. “You don’t think your name on my chest got the message across?”

Lewis grinned and chuckled lowly. “You can never be too careful.”

Nico hummed again, and he looked so serene Lewis couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward and kissed Nico briefly, gently, before pulling back. His eyes searched Nico’s face, and Nico’s own eyes were wide and bright as the rising Monaco sun pushed its way between skyscrapers to bathe them in light. It caught in Nico’s hair, dusted his alabaster skin as Lewis stroked his thumbs across his cheeks, stubble scraping his fingertips.

“I love you,” Lewis breathed. Nico pulled him closer until they were breathing each other’s air.

“I know,” he whispered into Lewis’ mouth.

“You should put your shirt back on.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”


End file.
